Erwin snapped his fingers. "Spot on. I thought the same at first. I've faced crises since I was a boy, mistaking them for special gifts. But they're just magical surges, and the Cavendish family can produce multiples. I wondered if those surges shattered the seal inside me."
He paused, eyes narrowing. "But I dismissed that quickly. My father left a failsafe; he wouldn't ignore surges. Cautious as he was, he'd have made it resilient. So only one truth remains: someone tampered with it, hastening the seal's break as my power grew in the wizarding world. Right, Mr. Alva?"
Laurent glanced at Erwin, silent, but his fists clenched tighter.
Erwin lifted the black tea from the table and took a sip, blowing gently on the steam. "If I hadn't seen you today, I'd still doubt my theory. But you slipped up, Mr. Alva."
Laurent met his gaze. "How?"
Erwin set down the cup, a cold gleam in his eyes. "You underestimate me because of my age. You think I'd accept your terms, your so-called cooperation? I can't absorb Zoe's bloodline yet, but you'd use the Cavendish family for cover. Then, when I can, you'd turn on us and let her drain mine instead. Clever plan. And your fallback—the manor outside London, with those Alva kin inside?"
Laurent shot to his feet, face paling in shock. "How could you know?"
Erwin chuckled. "Mr. Alva, did you skip your homework before scheming against me? This is London, Cavendish London. You lowball the family's reach."
Laurent's glare turned venomous, his aura thickening with murderous intent.
But then...
Apparition swirls erupted in the office.
In an instant, it brimmed with figures: acolytes and Cavendish wizards, wands trained on Laurent.
He froze, stunned.
Erwin waved them off. The group parted, forming a ring around him—and trapping Laurent at the center.
Erwin sank back into the sofa, petting the sleek fur of Ebony curled in his lap. "You didn't seriously think you could threaten me here in Cavendish Tower, did you? So naive, Mr. Alva."
He rose and moved to the window, beckoning Laurent over.
Laurent hesitated, then joined him.
Erwin peered down at the bustling street. "Look—Zoe and her mother are enjoying themselves."
Laurent followed his gaze. There they were, Zoe clasping her mother's hand as they wandered Diagon Alley. Trailing discreetly: several Cavendish wizards, wands already aimed at the pair. Faint green flickers danced at the tips, ready to unleash.
The wizards glanced up, inclining their heads to Erwin on the rooftop in silent deference.
Laurent's voice was ice. "This has nothing to do with them. I wasn't lying—I want to protect Zoe. She's in real danger."
Erwin nodded. "I believe you. But as I said, weaknesses are fatal. Exploit them, and you're helpless, like a lamb to the slaughter."
Laurent drew a shaky breath. "Patriarch Cavendish, I admit the Alva family played a part back then. But it was minor—the Demos family drove it. I know you won't spare me, but please, let Zoe and the others live."
Erwin laughed. "There you go, talking rot again. I need that bloodline—why would I let her walk?"
Laurent pressed on. "I wasn't lying. We're twins in the Alva line. To claim Zoe's bloodline, you have two paths. Kill both heirs and rip it free—but slay her, and the other vanishes. You'll never find her. Or she offers it willingly. No cooperation now; we'll swear on our ancient wizarding bloodlines. Spare her life, and she'll yield it freely. When you're ready to absorb it, all I ask is her peaceful survival."
Erwin stroked Ebony's head; the little black dog purred softly. He smiled. "No rush, Mr. Alva. I've another surprise for you."
Laurent frowned, tracking Erwin's line of sight.
His eyes bulged. "Impossible!"
At the street corner, Cavendish wizards flanked two captives, arms slung casually over their shoulders, wands jammed into waists.
One mirrored Laurent's features exactly. The other was a girl—Zoe's spitting image!
Erwin smirked. "Thanks are due, Patriarch Alva. You sent Zoe to Hogwarts for safety, but overlooked this: your bloodline's quirks. Not true twins, but close—your brother sired heirs identical to her. The Alva line scorns maternal ties. A family like yours would crumble under scandal in future generations."
He spoke with genuine admiration, then went on. "I just pulled a few strings to enroll the girl at Hogwarts, and your people came running—like a gift from Lady Luck."
Erwin tapped the window lightly. "Bang!"
He mimed the sound with a grin.
Instantly, from the corner's shadows, two jets of green light lanced from the wizards' wands.
...
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